


Southside Office

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU where Ian and Mickey parallel Jim and Pam, Gen, M/M, Office Romance, Slow Burn, The Office (US) AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless (US) meets The Office (US)</p><p>Ian and Mickey work in the same office. And that office has just been selected to be filmed for a documentary on the working life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter. It was a surprise part because it felt strange to just jump into the "series" without setting up the cameras and the documentary aspect of the show since it's written and not seen. I'm planing on using the format started here with "real time" interactions, recorded moments, interviews, phone messages and texts, e-mail or instant messages, and somewhat hidden camera POV's. I'm hoping it works out the way that I am planning. But it may need to change as I go on. 
> 
> Enjoy! Posted originally to my [tumblr. ](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/post/86091351367/fic-a-day-in-may-day-eighteen)

Mickey Milkovich glanced up from his desk as the office door opened and people started filing in. He raised his eyebrows at them before glancing over at Ian who sat at the desk slightly across from him. Ian only shrugged at him before craning his head to see all the people walking in.

“Ah!” Michael Scott, the boss, called out as he ran from his office. “The calvary has arrived.”

One of the crew, a woman wearing a thick set of keys on a chord around her neck and carrying a clip board walked over to him. “Yeah. Should we talk logistics? Figure out how hard this is going to be,” she asked looking around at the rather cramped office.

“That’s what she said,” Michael said and glanced over at Ian. Ian shook his head.

“I mean, why don’t we step into my office,” Michael said.

“Scope out the place and figure out what we need. Remember minimal crew.” The woman followed Michael into his office with a few of her staff. The rest of them dispersed to do whatever they were supposed to be doing.

Mickey watched them go with a yawn.

“Hey! No yawning on the job,” Ian said as he leaned against the reception desk.

“Fuck off,” Mickey said with a laugh.

“I mean, it’s only,” Ian paused to dramatically bring up his wrist to check the time. “Eleven o’clock. We’ve been here for only four hours. There’s still a long ways to go.”

“Slept like shit last night,” Mickey complained.

“Yeah?” Ian’s brow wrinkled in concern. He was always pre-occupied with the other man.

Mickey nodded and took a drink of his now cold coffee. He frowned. “I’ll survive firecrotch, don’t you worry.”

“I wasn’t worrying,” Ian objected.

“Whatever you say Gallagher.”

“Hey. You mind getting to work?” Dwight, another salesmen and the bane of Ian’s existence called. “The company isn’t paying you to chit chat all day.”

Ian rolled his eyes as he knocked on Mickey’s desk before returning to his seat. As much as he loathed to admit it, Dwight had been right. Ian had been waiting for a call from one of his big clients all day. It was time to renew their order and it was a hefty commission.

* * *

 

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _ur definitely not working_

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _I’m thinking._

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _thinking aint the same as working_

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _Says you. I’ll have you know I’m working extremely hard right now._

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _i doubt it_

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _You’re the one sending personal messages while at work…_

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _asswipe_

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _:)_ _  
_

* * *

 

“Okay everyone. I’ve called you here to explain how this is all going to work.”

Ian bumped his shoulder against Mickey’s to startle him awake. Mickey kicked him in return.

“Now. I know there’s been rumors going around. What the cameras mean. If it’s going to be a documentary. What movie stars are going to be dropping by,” Michael continued.

“I’m guessing none,” Ian said. “I mean, it’s Chicago. Not exactly LA.”

“Oh. Ian, just…shut it,” Michael said.

“Yeah Ian,” Dwight echoed from his place by the door.

“It’s going to pretty easy. That’s what she said,” Michael smiled to himself. “But in all seriousness, we’re not supposed to let the cameras affect our day to day life. They are just going to be here to record a few days a week. Probably when we have special events going on.”

“That’s something the party planning committee should have been informed of,” Angela Martin called from the back.

“Yes, well. The parties have been lacking, so maybe it’s time to step up your game,” Michael said. “I mean, they’re going to be on tv so. Mickey! Make a note to add money to the PPCBF.”

“PPCBF?” Mickey asked, looking up from the notebook he’d been writing in.

“Yeah. Party Planning Committee Budget Fund,” Michael said.

“Wouldn’t that just be the Party Planning Committee Budget or the Party Planning Committee Fund?” Ian asked.

“Yeah. Budget Fund just sounds redundant,” Phyllis Lapin said quietly.

“Okay whatever. That’s not important,” Michael said. “Let’s just move on.”

“It’s important if it involves the Party Planning Committee,” Angela argued.

“MOVING ON!” Dwight yelled from the door.

“Jesus, Dwight,” Michael said. “Don’t want to scare the people.”

“But you said…” Dwight trailed off as Michael waved his hand.

“They said to treat the cameras as other people in the office. But to ignore the people holding them and asking questions. But you’re supposed to answer their questions, so don’t ignore them all the time.” Michael scratched his head. “I assume that it’ll be obvious when they want you to answer and talk with them.”

“What kinds of questions are they going to be asking us?”

“Oh. I don’t know. How much you like your job. How amazing your boss is. How funny he is,” Michael suggested.

“Are they going to want to talk to us about our personal lives? Because I have relationships and I don’t feel comfortable talking about them in front of other people,” Kelly Kapoor said.

“I’m sure you won’t have to talk about things you’re not comfortable with,” Michael told them. “It’s just going to be simple interviews and just gathering footage for a documentary about everyday life. I don’t understand what’s so difficult to grasp about that!”

* * *

 

“I don’t know what the fuck you want me to talk about,” Mickey said as he looked at the camera. He scratched at his knuckles.

_Why don’t you just start with your name and position._

“Okay fine. Whatever. Mickey Milkovich. I work at reception.”

_How long have you been here?_

“Um, I guess about three years.” Mickey continued to scratch at his knuckles. He felt the nerves pricking at the back of his neck.

_How old are you?_

“The fuck you need to know that for?”

*********************************************************

Ian smiled at the man next to the camera. “Okay. So I’m Ian Gallagher and I work in sales. I actually started in customer service before I was able to transfer to sales.”

_How long have you been here?_

“Since I was eighteen, so about six years. Fuck. Has it really been that long?” Ian shook his head. “I mean I started because it was easy and convenient and I needed money for my family. And then when the sales position opened up, I was able to convince Michael to give it to me.”

_Why did you want to be transferred to sales?_

“Well, it was more money, for one thing. And it’s a good skill to have under my belt,” Ian rubbed at his head. “I guess I just always thought that I would have moved on by now.”

_Why haven’t you?_

Ian looked down at the floor and smiled a little, his mind instantly on Mickey. “Um. I guess, the convenience of already knowing what I’m doing. And the money’s still pretty good. I mean, today I’m waiting for a call from one of my biggest clients which happens to be most of my commission for the year.”

_Is that all?  
_

* * *

 

Ian walked to reception desk with a cup of coffee. He set it down and motioned to it when Mickey raised his eyebrows at him. “You’ve been yawning non-stop for the past twenty minutes.”

Mickey looked back down at the cup and frowned.

“It’s not like I poisoned it asshole.” Ian leaned on his arms.

“Thanks.”

“How’d your interview go?” Ian asked.

“The fuck they wanna know all that shit about me for?” Mickey asked as he took a drink of his coffee.

“To get to know us, Mick.”

“They know my name and where I work. That’s enough.”

Ian laughed and shook his head, looking at Mickey again. “You think it’s going to be weird when they start filming us working?”

“You never work, so when will that be?” Mickey shot back.

“Fuck you! I’m working today.”

“Yeah? Staring at your phone counts as working?” Mickey asked, his eyebrows waggling in that way of his.

“I’m waiting for a call from a big client,” Ian said.

“The one that’s most of your commission?” Mickey asked.

“Quarter, but yeah.”

“Shit. Haven’t heard from him yet?” Mickey finished his coffee and was tempted to ask Ian to refill it for him. He knew the red-head would if he asked him to.

“No. We’ve been missing each other every time we’ve tried connecting.”

“Well, man. Hope you hear from him soon,” Mickey said standing up and stretching.

“Thanks,” Ian said. “I guess I’ll leave you to your stretching.” He pushed off from Mickey’s desk.

Mickey just shook his head at him as he went to refill his coffee. 

* * *

 

“I don’t understand what you want me to say?” Ian asked.

  _What happened today?_

“Well, a camera crew showed up and had a meeting with boss. Apparently this office in the outskirts of Chicago that sells paper, of all things, in so riveting that they want to create a documentary about it. I lost the biggest commission I make in the year to another salesman in the office, which sucked. And then my boss ran another meeting at the end of the day to discuss the cameras coming in tomorrow.”

_So today’s been a rough day?_

*********************************************************

Ian felt something drop on his shoulder and looked over to see the top of Mickey’s head as Michael droned on about what everyone should be doing to prepare for the first day of actual filming tomorrow.

Ian had been telling Mickey to go home early because he was clearly exhausted. He had just shaken Ian off telling him that he was fine.

But apparently, he wasn’t. Because he was now dozing on his shoulder. And Ian wasn’t about to wake him.

He just looked down at his hands and smiled to himself.

*********************************************************

Ian bit his lip and smiled. “It was actually not a bad day.”

 


	2. Healthcare Plans, Alliances, and Parties, Oh My!

**_Previously on Southside Office:_ **

A camera crew arrived at the Chicago branch of Dunder Mifflin Inc, a small but steady paper company, in the hopes of using the office as the basis for their documentary on daily life.

“It’s going to be pretty easy. That’s what she said,” Michael smiled to himself. “But in all seriousness, we’re not supposed to let the cameras affect our day to day life.”

Mickey was now dozing on Ian's shoulder. And Ian wasn’t about to wake him. Ian just looked down at his hands and smiled to himself.

* * *

* * *

 

_How have you been getting used to the camera crew?_

Mickey picked at his nails. “It’s weird, man. I mean, cameras are following me around. My life ain’t that interesting. And you guys are always so quiet. Why are you so quiet? Don’t you ever have shit to say?”

Mickey shook his head. “I mean, I always have something to say or something I’m thinking about with this place. I was just thinking the other day how much I’d hate this place if Ian wasn’t here. He’s who I go to when I need help with something or need to talk about things or just need to blow off some steam.”

Mickey shook his head and wished for a cigarette. “I don’t know how you guys do it.”

* * *

 Mickey walked to the water cooler where Ian was leaning against. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Ian greeted and took a drink of water. He watched the camera as it focused on Dwight who was staring their direction with his leg bouncing. “What do you think’s up with Dwight?”

Mickey filled his water cup and glanced behind him. Dwight immediately pretended to be busy, but his leg was still shaking. “Dunno man. When isn’t there something up with that guy?”

Ian frowned. “You think it has something to do with the downsizing?”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Yeah. We found out that our company is going through some pretty tough financial times. Which means that there’s going to be downsizing happening,” Ian said.

_What does downsizing mean exactly?_

Ian rubbed at his neck. “Well, basically the higher ups are going to be looking for ways to save money. And there’s going to be layoffs. At least I’d assume so.”

_How did everyone handle the news?_

Ian laughed. “It might have been better if Michael hadn’t been the one delivering the news.”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Corporate has deemed it appropriate to force an ultimatum on me. Jan is thinking of either downsizing the Stamford branch or this one.”

“Michael, what if they downsize here?” Oscar Martinez asked.

“Not going to happen,” Michael assured.

“It could be out of your hands, Michael,” Stanley Hudson called from the back, looking up from his crossword puzzle.

“It won’t be out of my hands Stanley. Okay?” Michael said as he frowned. “I promise you that.”

Stanley dropped his crossword to his side. “Oh. Can you promise that?”

“On his mother’s grave,” Dwight chimed in from Michael’s side.

“Well, No. I.” Michael turned to face Stanley. “Yes that is a promise. And frankly I’m a little insulted that you have to keep asking about it.”

“It’s just that we need to know!” Stanley called. The rest of the employees started chattering in agreement.

Michael was clearly flustered and gestured to Mickey. “Hang on a second. I think Mickey wanted to say something.”

Mickey hunched in on himself and looked down. It didn’t help because Michael moved into Mickey’s line of vision.

“Mickey? You had…a look that you wanted to ask a question. Maybe say something,” Michael continued.

Mickey glanced at the camera before looking back at Michael and shaking his head.

“Mickey?”

Mickey rolled his eyes and sat up. “I was in the meeting with Jan and she did say it could be this branch that gets cut.”

The employees began whispering again. Michael only glared down at Mickey.

“Well, Mickey, you should maybe stick to the confidentiality in meetings,” Michael said.

“Then don’t tell me to talk. ‘Cause I don’t know what you want me to say,” Mickey shot back. He was not going down with this train wreck.

The employees started talking over themselves in a rush to get Michael to commit to something. Michael just stared at Mickey, apparently trying to get him to fix it. Mickey just shrugged and looked at his hands.

“Oh. Did you hear that?” Michael asked. “My phone’s ringing. I better go and get that.” He started walking out of the conference room.

“I don’t hear anything,” Dwight said as Michael passed him.

“Dwight!” Michael scolded. “It’s definitely my phone. I better.” Michael shut his office door and pulled his blinds.

***********************************************************************************************************

“Look. I feel bad, but what was I supposed to do?” Mickey scratched at his neck. “I mean, it’s not my fault that he can’t give bad news to people. It was the only thing I could say. I knew he was too fucking afraid to admit that there’s probably going to be downsizing at our branch.”

Mickey shrugged. “Can I go now?”

* * *

 “Wait, wait, wait. You watched fucking _Grey’s Anatomy?_ ” Mickey asked. “Isn’t that the stupid show about the doctors who just fuck around the hospital and don’t actually do any work?

Ian blushed and looked down. “Yeah. But it’s not like I had a choice,” Ian argued.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah? It’s called turning the tv off, Gallagher. Unless you mean to tell me that someone was there, forcing you to watch.”

“Fuck you,” Ian said laughing. Mickey just smirked at him.

“Re-e-an,” Michael said in a sing song.

Ian rolled his eyes at Mickey. “Scooby Doo?” he guessed.

“No. Ian. Come on. Ricola guy,” Michael said.

“Of course,” Ian said, shaking his head at the camera.

“Brainstorming sesh,” Michael said gesturing to his office.

 “Have fun in your sesh,” Mickey said to Ian with a smirk. Ian flipped him off as he walked into Michael’s office. He closed the door behind him.

“What’s up, Michael?” Ian asked as he sat down.

Michael folded his hands on his desk and looked at Ian. “There’s a decision that needs to be made today.”

“Okay,” Ian said, unsure where this was going.

“So I’m going to let you pick a health care plan for our office and then explain it to your co-workers,” Michael said.

“What? No,” Ian said, sitting up. “You’re the boss. Why can’t you do it?”

“I’m just having an unbelievably busy day,” Michael said.

Ian looked down at the empty paperwork inbox folder. 

“So I’m just, I just don’t have the time to do this today,” Michael smiled at Ian. “Which is why I am gifting it to you.”

Ian sighed. “I really think that I should be concentrating on sales today, you know?”

“What? No. They’ll be there tomorrow,” Michael tried to argue.

“But you know who would be great for this?” Ian asked.

“Who?” Michael leaned forward.

“Dwight.”

Michael frowned.

***********************************************************************************************************

“Any time Michael asks me to do anything, I just tell him Dwight should do it,” Ian said.

_Why?_

“Look, this is a job right now. But if I move up any higher, it would be a career. And,” Ian sighed. “It’s just not what I want to be doing forever.”

_What do you want to do?_

Ian frowned. “Does it matter? I’m not doing it now and chances are. I don’t know what I want to do anymore. Ad a kid I always thought I’d.”

The camera focused on Ian’s face as he looked down at his hands.

“The Army. I wanted to join the army when I was younger.”

Ian rubbed at his face. “It was just a childish dream. I get that. But just because I can’t ever be an Officer like I dreamed doesn’t mean I want to spend my life at this boring dead-end job.”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Am I happy that Michael gave this job to me?” Dwight asked. “Let’s just say that if I had a beet seed for every time Michael gave me a job to do, I’d have half a dozen beet seeds.”

_Do you think you’re up to the challenge?_

“Please. Like any of them are going to be able to do it?” Dwight shook his head. “All they do is complain about everything. I think I have the flu. My kid must have come down with that stomach bug. Oh my throat hurts and I can’t come to work.”

Dwight started at the camera and his lips curled a little. “Please. It’s all a bunch of fakers using excuses so they can take some time off work.”

_But what if they are really sick?_

“Then they should come in and tough it out like everyone else,” Dwight explained.

_What if they have kids that are sick?_

“I didn’t force anyone to have kids, so why should I be punished for it?”

Dwight shook his head. “All I’m saying is that Michael needs cuts to be made and I am the man to do it. I am strong willed and determined and ready to shave this down to the quick.”

Dwight stared at the camera. “No one’s riding this gravy boat anymore because I’m going to sink it.”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Can you believe this? He cut fucking everything.” Mickey complained. “Like to the fucking bone.”

Ian looked down at the paper he was holding. “Well it’s a good thing no one ever gets sick.”

“It’s not funny,” Mickey complained.

“No,” Ian said distractedly. He bit on his lip, still looking at the paper.

Mickey looked at him, watched him glare down at the paper. He felt like Ian needed a distraction. “You think we should say something?”

Ian looked up and smiled at him. “After you.”

Mickey just shook his head and led the way into the conference room.

“Dwight. What the hell is this?” Mickey demanded, dropping the paper on the desk.

“Uh knock please,” Dwight said pointing at the door. “This is my office.”

“It says workspace,” Ian said, nodding his head toward the sign on the door.

“Same thing,” Dwight argued.

Ian tilted his head toward the camera with a smirk.

***********************************************************************************************************

“Gallagher!” Mickey hissed from the reception desk.

Ian looked up and moved over to him when Mickey motioned. “What’s up?”

“Come here,” Mickey said quietly. “Look what I found.”

“Oh my god,” Ian said with a laugh.

Mickey had been walking past the conference room when Dwight had thrown a stack of paper away. A bolded OFFICE stuck out, so Mickey may have grabbed them out of the trashcan in hopes they would lift Ian’s spirits. He’d been a little down today and Mickey didn’t like that. He didn’t like not seeing Ian smile or look at the cameras.

So Mickey had taken it on himself to figure out a way to life his spirits.

“I think Dwight was trying to make a sign,” Mickey said quietly. “And got carried away or some shit.”

“Oh now this one,” Ian said holding up one of the crumpled papers. “It’s clearly a winner.”

The sign read OFFICE in big bolded letters with _stay out unless given authorization by Dwight K. Schrute_ underneath it in much smaller letters.

“I mean,” Ian continued. “It tells everyone what it is and has that special Schrute kindness attached to it.”

Mickey laughed. “I thought it was a workspace.”

“Oh,” Ian said. “Looks like he figured that out.”

There were a few papers that said workspace. One had just the word typed with _stay out_ written underneath it. Another had only _Dwight Schrute’s Office_ , which made Ian want to frame it and set it on his own desk.

“This one’s definitely my favorite,” Mickey told him holding up a one that just said SHRUTE SPACE in all caps. “I mean it gets right to the point.”

Ian laughed and glanced toward the door. “I see he chose a more dignified version for his workspace.”

Mickey laughed. “Yeah. I think it’s cause these just didn’t really capture everything he needed them to.”

The sign hanging on the door currently read DWIGHT SCHRUTE WORKSPACE.  

Ian shook his head. “Good find, Mick.”

“Yeah. Thought so,” Mickey said, studiously not looking up at Ian. That nickname always made him blush. It wasn’t even a telling nickname. It was literally a shortened version of his name but for some reason, it made him anxious or something when Ian said it.

“This one’s my favorite,” Ian said laughing. It read **The Office of Dwight K. Schrute** , and _currently working on picking a new health care policy so please keep your interruptions to a minimum,_ in smaller letters right beneath it. But off to the side, hand written in pen, it read _Ian Gallagher will not be permitted inside without written or verbal authorization from Michael Scott or the same from Dwight K. Schrute._

Mickey only shook his head and laughed.

***********************************************************************************************************

“Then why does it say workspace?” Ian asked.

Dwight frowned at him. “Have some respect for your superior.”

“You are not my superior,” Ian said.

Mickey put a hand on Ian’s arm and one in front of Dwight. “All right. Just calm down.”

“Yeah, Ian.”

Mickey just sighed. “Dwight. Are you really in charge of picking a health care plan?”

“Yes,” Dwight said. “And my decision is final.”

“This is the worst plan,” Mickey said pointing back down at the updated plan. “You cut everything.”

Dwight shrugged and went back to writing on the paper in front of him. “Times are tough. Deal with it.”

Mickey was about to take a step forward because he grew up in the Southside, the real Southside. He knew all about tough times. But Ian’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Don’t you want good insurance?” Ian asked.

“I don’t need it. Superior genes,” Dwight said. “Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and walked out.

Ian looked down at Dwight. “Really? You’re not even going to cover a little?”

“It is unnecessary.”

Ian shook his head and walked back to his desk to get back to work.

***********************************************************************************************************

Ian was slumped in the seat, staring at the ground.

_Why are you so upset about this?_

“Dwight’s cutting everything,” Ian complained. “I mean, there’ll be no more going to the doctor when you have the flu or a cold or are afraid that you’re chest is collapsing. Or if you break your arm or something like that.”

_Are you more concerned for yourself with that?_

Ian clenched his jaw and craned behind him and caught sight of Mickey working at reception. “Other people.”

_Anyone in particular?_

Ian turned back, his cheeks pink. “Well, Mickey’s got a temper. And there’s been a few times where he’s shown up to work with a black eye or broken knuckles or worse. It’s not a big deal because Michael asks him to tell the story and then has Mickey go in the back by Toby and Kelly for the day. But like, what would he do if he couldn’t go get help?” Ian asked.

_Aren’t you worried about yourself too? These changes are going to affect you as well._

“Of course I’m worried about myself. It’s hard not to be when you have to take a handful of pills everyday just to feel fucking steady,” Ian said.

_Pills?_

Ian rubbed at his head. “Look, I have Bipolar Disease. Got it from my mom. I really don’t want to talk about it and I don’t fucking want people to know. It’s not a big deal and I’m handling it. I’ve been handling it for years.” Though he hadn’t done a very good job of it at first.

“The appointments and medication can be really expensive. Luckily I had my insurance to help cover some of the cost. If this plan goes through, I’ll be screwed as well,” Ian glared at the camera. “I know that, if push comes to shove, I can get by. I don’t know if he can.”

* * *

Ian sat at his desk glaring at his computer trying to will a way to fix this into existence. He couldn’t help but think that this wouldn’t be happening if he had just taken on the project himself.

Naturally, Ian’s brooding was interrupted.

“Attention everyone!” Dwight called walking out of the conference room he was using as a work space but calling his office. Everyone reluctantly looked up from their work.

“It has been brought to my attention is that some of you are unhappy with my plan,” he started. “What you can do is write down the diseases you want covered and I’ll see what I can do.” Dwight held up a stack of papers.

“Yeah. We can’t write out diseases down because that’s confidential,” Ian said, annoyed.

Dwight frowned. “Well I didn’t say to write your names. Fill it out and leave it anonymous. Or just don’t write down any diseases and they won’t be covered. Sound fair?”

People started mumbling. Dwight ignored them.

“Good all right. I’ll be in my office,” Dwight said as he turned and walked back into the conference room.

“Workspace,” Ian corrected. The slight hesitation in Dwight’s steps was reward enough for Ian. Although the slamming of the door made it even better.

Ian glanced up and saw Mickey watching him. He smiled at him before getting back to work.

Mickey just frowned slightly because it wasn’t an Ian smile and he knew it. There was something wrong with him and Mickey wanted to find out what.   

***********************************************************************************************************

“I don’t know what you want me to say, man,” Mickey said, slouching in his seat. “It fucking sucks. I never had doctors and insurance and shit growing up. Couldn’t afford it,” Mickey said, his fingers tapping on his knee. Thinking about his home life always did that to him.

_Can you say anything?_

“It’s going to be tough going back to life without that crap,” Mickey told them. “It’s not like I used it very often, but it was really good to have the option for the times that I did need it.”

There was a loud slam of a door.

“The fuck was that?” Mickey asked.

 “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Dwight’s voice was heard all the way in the back. Mickey took it as his cue that the interview was over and stood up to walk out of the back room where they had decided to set up interviews today.

 “What the hell Dwight?” Mickey asked after walking into the main office room.

Dwight turned to look at him. “Someone forged medical information. And that’s a felony.” Dwight turned around to glare at everyone as though he wanted to scare someone into confessing.

“Let’s not involved the cops just yet,” Ian said leaning back in his chair. “How do you know they’re fake?”

Mickey smirked at Ian as he walked past to get to the reception desk.

“Let’s see. Leprosy,” Dwight said pointing at the paper. “Flesh eating bacteria. Hot dog fingers.”

There was a wave a quiet laughter through the office. Ian caught Mickey’s eye and smiled. Dwight studiously ignored everyone.

“Government created nano-robot infection,” Dwight continued, but he looked up at the outburst of laughter. He glared around at everyone but no one was quieting down.

His eyes landed on Ian. “You wrote this, didn’t you?”

“Absolutely not,” Ian told him, sitting up in his chair.

***********************************************************************************************************

Ian stood near at the receptionist desk with Mickey. They were both filling out the new forms for the health care plan. He saw Mickey writing something and leaned over to watch him but he couldn’t read his writing upside down.

“Hey don’t write Ebola or mad cow disease,” Ian said and Mickey glanced up at him. “’Cause I already have both.”

Mickey laughed and shook his head. “Nah, man. I’m creating new ones.”

“Shit,” Ian said. “That’s genius.”

Mickey looked down but his ears turned red. “So, what would you call it when your teeth turn to liquid and then drip down the back of your throat?”

“I thought you said you were inventing shit?” Ian laughed. “That’s obviously spontaneous dental hydro-plosion.”

“Nice, Gallagher.” Mickey scribbled it out.

 Ian just continued to write on the form but kept glancing over to watch Mickey write things down. He did this tongue thing when he was concentrating that, ironically made it difficult for Ian to concentrate.

“You think he’ll know it was us?” Mickey asked without looking up.

“You care if he does?” Ian replied.

“Nah.” Mickey passed him the paper to turn in.

“I’m doing your work too now?” Ian asked grabbing the paper.

“Calm down tough guy,” Mickey said. “You’re carrying an extra paper to the box right across from your desk.”

Ian took the paper, but pretended to be upset by it the entire time. It wasn’t until he got hit in the head with a piece of paper that his feelings changed and he looked up.

Mickey was laughing and didn’t look upset in the least. Ian found that he didn’t really mind.

***********************************************************************************************************

Dwight put up his hands. “Fine. You leave me no choice. I’m going to interview every single one of you until the perpetrator makes him or herself known.”

“Dwight you can’t be serious!” someone called out.

“And until said time the culprit is discovered, there will be no health care coverage for anyone.” Dwight nodded and turned to storm back into the conference room. He didn’t shut the door this time.

Ian pushed away from his desk and walked to reception. He leaned on the desk as Mickey pretended to ignore him.

“Killer nano-robots?” he whispered after a minute.

“It’s an epidemic,” Mickey said glancing up at him.  

Ian laughed and tapped the desk. “Nice one.”

Mickey watched him walked back to his desk and couldn’t help but smile. He’d made Ian laugh and that was really the whole goal of the thing.

* * *

_So what happened?_

“Dwight,” Mickey said annoyed. “Called us into the conference room to read diseases out loud to make sure someone had them. I mean, pretty shitty right?”

Mickey rubbed at his mouth. “It was just fucking ridiculous. But Ian put a stop to it.”

_What’d he do?_

Mickey laughed a little and shook his head. “The asshole herded everyone out and then locked Dwight in the conference room. You should have seen it. Dwight’s face was fucking great.”

Mickey laughed harder and threw his head back. “He fucking tapped on the window for hours!”

_How long did he stay in there?_

Mickey cocked his head. “He’s still there now. Michael refused to come out of his office and no one else wanted to let Dwight out.”

_And where’s Ian in all this?_

Mickey bit at his lip and shrugged. “The hell should I know? I’m not his keeper.” But he didn’t look at anyone or the camera.

***********************************************************************************************************

_Why’d you lock Dwight in the conference room?_

“You mean his workspace?” Ian asked with a smirk. “I figured that would be obvious. He cut our health care and then tried to force everyone to talk about their medical histories.”

Ian shrugged. “Locking him in his workspace seems fair, right?”

_You disappeared for a while. What happened?_

Ian looked down. “I know that it’s my fault that this whole thing happened. If I had just helped, no one would have had to go through this. So I just went to Toby and asked if there was anything we could do.”

_What did he say?_

“He said it was possible. So I got to work.”

***********************************************************************************************************

Michael walked out from his office. “It looks like the health care plan has been submitted. So we are good to go.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Angela asked from the accountants’ corner.

“No. And don’t call me Shirley,” Michael told her.

“Michael, Dwight’s plan was awful. It didn’t cover anything,” Phyllis said quietly.

“Well,” Michael looked at his wrist, even though he wasn’t wearing a watch. “Jan needed the form in by five and it’s already almost five. So I don’t really know what I can do.”

“Um, question,” Dwight asked from the side. “What plan did you submit to corporate?”

Michael frowned. “Uh…I don’t have it in front of me, but whatever one she got she was happy with.”

“I saw this in the printer,” Ian spoke up and held up a stack of paper. “I think it was called the basic plan.”

“Ah, perfect,” Michael said. “I couldn’t have done that better me-shelf.”

“Wait a second,” Dwight said. “This is not the plan I submitted. What happened?”

Michael looked at him, looked at the camera, sighed, and then walked back into his office and shut the door.

“What did you do?” Dwight asked him.

“Why do you think it was me?” Ian asked.

***********************************************************************************************************

“Look, as much as I could use the coverage, so could everyone else,” Ian explained as he leaned forward on his knees.

_How’d you do it?_

“It was pretty easy. I just had to steal the booklet with the different plans from Michael’s office, which entailed talking with him about different surprises he could try to plan for the office before Mickey got my text and interrupted so I could escape. Then I had to quickly go through it and find a plan that would work and would be approved by corporate. I used Toby for that part.”

Ian took a breath and rubbed at his head. “Then I had to fill out the appropriate forms, contact Jan as though I was Michael, which meant impersonating him on the phone. I also had to fax the final forms over with Michael’s signature which thank god I spend so much time helping him with documents. And finally I just had to wait for Jan’s e-mail to go through to Michael. And once he got the confirmation, it was all good.”

“And that’s when Michael made that announcement.” Ian shrugged. “Though he clearly didn’t read much more than the line that she’d received his health care plan.”

***********************************************************************************************************

Ian turned to everyone else whose spirits had already seemed to have lifted. “You guys up for a drink? To celebrate?”

There was a murmur of agreement before Meredith yelled out the name of a bar that everyone seemed to agree with.

“Thanks Ian,” Phyllis said quietly as she passed him.

Ian nodded to her before turned to Mickey. “You going tonight?”

“Got nothing better to do,” Mickey said.

“Cool,” Ian said as he packed up his bag.

“Hey, can I hitch a ride?” Mickey asked him. “My sister needed my car today.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Ian grabbed his coat.

Mickey shrugged into his own jacket and shook his head. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that you fixed it? I had no fucking idea what you were doing”

Ian sighed. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

“I went all day thinking I was fucked. And not in a good way,” Mickey complained following him out.

“You’re welcome,” Ian said with a smirk.

Mickey stared at him, his eyebrows raised. “Asswipe.”

“I think you said ‘my hero’ wrong,” Ian teased as the elevator doors opened.

“Fuck you,” Mickey said as he walked onto the elevator.

Ian followed him and bumped his shoulder against Mickey’s. Mickey flipped him off.

Ian laughed as he pushed the button for the ground floor. He looked straight ahead and smiled to himself.

Mickey glanced at Ian and couldn’t help but smile too. The elevator doors closed.

***********************************************************************************************************

_So you had a stressful day it sounds like?_

“Not bad,” Ian said. He glanced out of the window toward the office and saw Mickey. He was tapping his fingers angrily against his desk and biting his lip.

“Worth it.”

* * *

* * *

 Ian walked over to his desk, to sit down after the conference room meeting. “What’s that?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Dwight responded not looking up.

“It’s large, white. Has a giant container filled with water on it. I forget, what are those called again?” Ian questioned with a smirk.

“It’s a water cooler, idiot,” Dwight said looking at him.

“Why is it at your desk?” Ian asked as he watched Stanley and Kevin wander over.

“Dwight. Why’d you do this?” Stanley asked in his monotone.

“I didn’t do it,” Dwight said. “Management moved it.”

“Yeah. Dwight brings his own water,” Ian said, holding up Dwight’s oversized water bottle. “He’d have no reason to.” Ian shrugged as Dwight grabbed the bottle from him.

“Anyway.” Dwight swiveled in his chair in attempted nonchalance. He just ended up slouched over and looking awkward. “What do you guys hear? What’s the scuttlebutt?”

Ian turned to the cameras and mouthed, ‘ _Scuttlebutt?’_

Stanley just rolled his eyes and walked to the break room to get more coffee.

“Not cool man,” Kevin said as he filled a cup with water. “Not cool.”

“So not cool Dwight,” Ian slightly mocked.

“Quiet you,” Dwight said, hunching back over his paperwork.

“Wasting precious company time by moving the water cooler?” Ian shook his head. “What do you think Michael would say?”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Look am I happy about moving the water cooler? No. It was heavy and I got water all over my suit. But it needed to be done,” Dwight said.

_Why do you think it needed to be done?_

“I know that more gossip and office chatter happen around the water cooler every day. And since I bring my own water,” Dwight pulled up the large water bottle that Ian had grabbed earlier. “I’m at a huge disadvantage to learn what everyone has heard and are talking about.”

Dwight shook his head. “I need to think of some way to get people to talk around me.” 

* * *

Michael led the camera into his office. “Follow your leader.”

Mickey just glanced up as he sat in the chair. He had been drawing randomly in his notebook while he waited for Michael.

Michael sat on the edge of his desk with a huge smile. “Get ready. For Operation Office Morale Improvement!”

Mickey sighed.

“Starring Michael Scott!” Michael giggled. “Now I think I’ve had a little stroke of genius in that I have had my assistant Mickey.”

Mickey only raised his eyebrows.

Michael frowned and shifted to crouch in front of Mickey. “Smile Mickey.”

Mickey frowned up at him instead. “No.”

“Well. He’s. Whatever.” Michael gestured for the camera to come back to him as he sat back on his desk. “I have had him go out and find out whose birthday is coming up so we can have a little celebration for them!”

Michael smiled. “Not bad at all.” He nodded toward Mickey.

“All right. Drum roll please.” Michael started tapping on his desk.

Mickey looked at him and then back at his hands. “I—Are you really going to do that?”

“Adds appeal.” Michael continued tapping on his desk through Mickey’s annoyed huff.

“Okay. Well there’s no birthday coming up.”

Michael stopped. “What?”

“There’s no staff birthday coming up.” Mickey repeated, chewing on his lip.

“Okay. Next person on the list,” Michael commanded.

“Meredith,” Mickey said as he glanced through the calendar. “Next month.”

“Well,” Michael grimaced. “All right. That’s fine. Come on down Meredith.”

“So we having a party?” Mickey asked.

“Yes, oh honorable Mickey,” Michael said jumping off his desk. “Let’s live a little. Shake a little.”

“I guess,” Mickey said as he stood up.

“You must alert the PPC, young grasshopper!” Michael said.

Mickey stared at the camera as he stood up and walked out.

***********************************************************************************************************

Mickey doodled in the notebook in front of him as the women around him chatted.

“Well, maybe for decorations we could do,” Phyllis sighed. “Never mind. It’s stupid. Forget it.”

“What?” Angela asked quietly.

Phyllis looked down at the table. “I was just going to say maybe we could have streamers, but that’s dumb. Everybody has streamers.”

“No,” Angela said. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Mickey looked up at her, surprised. Angel never even asked for help and always shot down any attempt.

“What color?” Angela asked.

Phyllis sighed. “Well there’s green. Blue.”

Mickey sat back and closed his eyes, trying to breathe through his nose.

“Yellow,” Phyllis continued. “Red.”

Mickey shook his head. “What about green?”

Angela leveled him with a disdainful look. “I think green is whoreish.”

***********************************************************************************************************

_How did you get involved with the Party Planning Committee?_

Mickey rubbed at his neck. “Michael figured it’d be easier to send me because I have to take notes at all our meetings. And I can help steer them in the direction Michael wants.”

_When did it start?_

Mickey sighed. “Uh, I guess right around the time I started.” He laughed. “I think it might have to do with how Michael was afraid of me for a while and just wanted to make me happy.”

_Are you happy being on the Party Planning Committee?_

Mickey looked at the camera. “Is that a fucking serious question?”

***********************************************************************************************************

Michael swaggered into the office and everyone turned to look at him.

“Well what do we have here?” Michael asked as he hopped up on the table. It was more like a lean. “These are my party planning biyatches.”

Mickey frowned at him and then at the camera.

“Well, and of course Mickey,” Michael patted him on the shoulder. “Who is the party planner master.”

“I’m the head of the party planning committee,” Angela complained.

“It’s the reason that I hired him,” Michael said with a smirk.

“No,” Mickey argued. “That’s not true.”

“Well, it’s kinda true,” Michael counter-argued.

“God I hope not,” Mickey sighed as he started scribbling in the notebook.

“Don’t be such a downer, Mickey,” Michael said.

“Was there something you needed Michael?” Phyllis asked.

“Yesh,” Michael said. “I was thinking, if you hadn’t already gotten a cake, we should get one of those ice cream cakes.”

“Ain’t Meredith allergic to dairy?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah,” Phyllis agreed. “Maybe we could do a regular cake with ice cream on the side?”

“No, no! Phyllis come on!” Michael complained. “Besides it’s not like she’s going to be the only one eating it.”

They all just looked at Michael.

“It’s not only about her,” Michael continued. “So I’m thinking mint chocolate chip.”

“But it’s Meredith’s birthday,” Mickey tried.

“MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP!” Michael nearly shouted as he shuffled out of the office.

“Michael I really don’t think that’s going to work,” Angela tried but Michael was already out of the room.

“So are we going to get an ice cream cake?” Phyllis asked.

“We have to Phyllis! Michael told us to!” Angela slammed her notebook shut and stood up. “Can I trust you to get it?”

“Yes,” Phyllis said softly.

“Good.” Angela stormed out.

Phyllis sighed and quietly gathered her things before following Angela out.

Mickey just grabbed his notebook and started back to reception. Ian stuck his foot out in an attempt to trip him. Mickey saw it first.

He just looked up at him, his eyebrows raised. “You tryin’ to trip me, Gallagher?”

“No,” Ian smirked.

“Fuck you,” Mickey said but he smiled as he sat back down at reception. Ian watched him walk away and smiled to himself as well.

***********************************************************************************************************

“He always does this!” Angela nearly cried. “He always comes in at the last minute to make changes to our plans.”

She took a breath. “It’s like he doesn’t understand how difficult it is to plan a party with the budget I have and make everyone happy and not have someone screw it up.”

* * *

Ian punched in the number of copies he needed and leaned against the copier.

Dwight slithered up behind him and put his hands on his hips. “Hey. So listen.”

Ian turned toward him.

“I was thinking that it might be a good idea if you and I formed an alliance,” Dwight said.

Of all the things that Ian had been expecting, this wasn’t on the list. “What?”

“You know, ‘cause of the downsizing,” Dwight told him.

“Oh. Yeah. Downsizing,” Ian laughed quietly.

“I think an alliance might be a good idea. You know, help each other out.” Dwight glanced around, making sure that no one was looking.

Dwight leaned closer to Ian and signaled him even closer. “Do you want to form an alliance with me?”

Ian looked up with a bright smile. “Absolutely I do.”

***********************************************************************************************************

Ian started laughing. “Everything Dwight does annoys me. And that’s hard to do because I grew up in a large, fucking loud family.”

********************************************************

“Do you have tickets?” Dwight asked.

“Tickets to what?” Ian responded barely looking up from his expense report.

“To the gun show.” Dwight lifted his arm to flew his bicep. He even kissed it before laughing.

Ian just turned to look at the camera.

********************************************************

“Yes, I have that information for you right here,” Ian said as he pressed his shoulder to the phone while he looked through the papers on his desk.

A loud machinery noise forced Ian to look over at Dwight, who had decided that now was the perfect moment to shred his documents. At his desk.

“Can you hold on just one second? Thank.” Ian covered the mouthpiece and nearly shouted, “Can you not do that right now?”

“It’s important that I shred confidential documents at regular intervals, Ian,” and Dwight continued shredding.

********************************************************

“But he does these stupid things and they just make me think of ways to get back at him,” Ian explained.

He shook his head. “But here comes Dwight offering up a chance to mess with him willingly.”

Ian laughed. “Priceless.”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Okay. Good,” Dwight nodded with a smile. “Let’s keep this alliance totally a secret.”

“Of course,” Ian agreed, when he was really already planning on telling Mickey.

“I’m serious Ian,” Dwight grabbed his arm. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Ian nodded. “We probably should be careful how often we talk too. Don’t want people to start thinking we’re in an alliance.”

Dwight nodded “Yes, Ian. Good. That’s good.”

Dwight turned to him and held out his hand. Ian shook it.

“I’ll arrange a meeting for later,” Dwight said. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Of course,” Ian agreed. But Dwight was already walking away.

***********************************************************************************************************

**_M.Milkovich:_ ** _so what does that even mean? an alliance?_

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _Well he’s worried about downsizing and thinks that if we can work together we might be able to eliminate other people before Michael or corporate can get rid of us._

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _so like survivor._

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _Kind of. Except in Survivor your alliance can actually help you remain. This alliance doesn’t do anything._

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _but dwight thinks that it does._

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _Yeah. He is convinced that this will somehow help him not be let go if it comes down to it._

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _how serious is he taking it?_

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _Well, he’s created a secret system so we can know when the other one needs to talk in secret._

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _really? hes that intense?_

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _It’s Dwight. He even yelled at me because he thought I was going to tell you about it._

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _you did._

 **_I.Gallagher:_ ** _Yeah. But it’s not a real alliance. I’m just going to use it to feed him false information to see how far he’ll go with this. You want in?_

 **_M.Milkovich:_ ** _hell yeah._

***********************************************************************************************************

“It’s not that big of a fucking deal,” Mickey said. “It’s harmless. Dwight’s not going to get hurt.”

Mickey bit at his lip. “It actually helps the day go by faster. Ian’s always thinking of little things to do. Most of the time Dwight doesn’t even really notice what’s happening.”

Mickey laughed. “One time Ian put his stapler in jello. It was crazy impressive.”

_Why?_

“It took a long time because the jello has to set,” Mickey started explaining. “And the day before Dwight had said or done something that got me pissed off. I can’t remember what it was. But Ian said that he’d take care of it.”

Mickey shook his head. “The next day Dwight’s stapler was in jello and they were cracking jokes about it.”

Mickey rubbed at his mouth. “Ian’s the best.”

* * *

It wasn’t much later that Ian found a piece of paper in his coffee. He looked up at Dwight. “Really?”

Dwight grimaced at him and motioned his head toward the door. He nodded once and then stood up. “I am going to my car because I forgot something.”

He walked out, stopping to grab his coat.

Ian just shook his head and went over to reception. He grabbed a candy and made a show of slowly unwrapping it.

“You gonna eat it or try to fuck it?” Mickey asked.

“I’m just giving Dwight a head start. We have a secret meeting,” Ian told him.

“Oh, for your alliance?” Mickey asked with a laugh. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing. But I’m going to make him think that there’s something,” Ian said.

“Nice. Fill me in later?” Mickey asked.

Ian shrugged. “I don’t know if I can. I mean, it is top secret.”

“Come on, man,” Mickey sighed. “I have to plan a surprise party for someone whose birthday is over a month away today. It’s the least you can do.” He smirked up at Ian.

“Playing the guilt card? Really, Mick?” Ian asked.

“If it works,” Mickey retorted.

Ian shook his head. “All right. Fine. You win.”

“’Course I do,” Mickey said.

“You’re lucky I like you, Mickey,” Ian said. He tapped the desk and walked to the elevator.

When he got down to the parking lot, Dwight popped up from the side of his car.

“Ian!” He hissed.

“What took you so long?” he asked when Ian got over to him.

“Trying not to look suspicious,” Ian told him. “I mean, you left. They would have been onto us if I had left right away.”

Dwight nodded. “No. Good thinking, Ian. Good plan.”

“Right? That’s what I was thinking,” Ian said.

“Okay, what have you found out?” Dwight asked.

Ian nodded and crossed his arms. “Well a lot of shit went down, Dwight. I don’t know if you’re going to believe it.”

“What?” Dwight asked. “No. I believe it.”

“You were right. Tensions were high in the kitchen,” Ian told him.

“I knew it!” Dwight punched the air.

***********************************************************************************************************

Ian walked into the kitchen where Kevin and Toby were sitting at the little table. He reached for a coffee mug. “That looks good,” he said to Kevin. “Turkey?”

Kevin shook his head and said, “Italian,” with his mouth full.

Ian nodded. “Italian, huh. Looks like the works too.”

“Oh yeah,” Kevin said before taking a huge bite.

***********************************************************************************************************

“I could tell from the body language,” Dwight told Ian. “It’s why I sent you in there.”

Ian nodded. “Well, I guess Toby and Kevin are trying to get rid of Angela.”

“Good. Let them,” Dwight told him. “It helps our cause.”

Ian shrugged. “Does it?”

“What do you mean?” Dwight asked him.

“Look at it, man. If Kev’s in accounting but he’s talking with Toby in Human Resourcing,” Ian shrugged. “Doesn’t sound real good.”

Dwight shook his head. “Oh my god. They’re forming an alliance. Damnit!” He kicked at the car.

It was Ian’s car and the alarm was now going off. Ian just sighed and pulled his keys out of his pocket. He clicked the alarm button to silence the car and shoved his keys back into his pocket.

“Okay. So I guess we’re just gonna have to assume everyone’s forming alliances,” Ian said. “It’s the only way for us to keep the upper hand. I think we’d better assume that we’ll be on the top of everyone’s hit lists.”

Dwight pulled at his hair. “Why us?”

Ian shrugged. “Because we’re strong Dwight. Because we’re strong.”

***********************************************************************************************************

Dwight shrugged. “I’m in an impossible position here. I mean, I’m taking a big risk in forming this alliance with Ian. But it’s not like I have a choice. I’m backed in a corner here.”

Dwight looked up at the camera. “Can I trust Ian? I don’t know. Do I have a choice? No. Frankly, I don’t. Will I trust Ian? Yes.”

He sat forward in his chair. “Should I trust Ian?”

Dwight tilted his head. “You tell me.” 

* * *

The phone buzzed. Mickey sighed and picked it up. “What?”

“Mickey, could you please come into my office for a moment?” Michael asked.

“Is it important?” Mickey asked.

“Indubitably,” Michael responded.

“Fine.” Mickey hung up the phone and grabbed his notebook.

“Yes, Mickey. Why don’t you have a seat,” Michael suggested when Mickey walked into his office. “But close the door please too.”

Mickey shut the door, not missing the way Ian was smirking at him, before sitting in the chair near Michael’s desk.

“Now. I need help with Meredith’s card,” Michael explained.

“I thought Angela picked it up already?”

Michael shook his head. “No. About what to write in it. I mean, I have to write something funny.” Michael frowned. “Not just funny. But the most funny. It’s gotta be good. So thoughts?”

Mickey looked up at him. “You called me in here to help you fill out a card?”

“Meredith…Meredith. Mary?” Michael continued, not responding to Mickey’s question. “Mary had a little lamb? But does Meredith have any pets?”

“Michael, I have actual work to do,” Mickey complained.

“Oh take a chill pill, Mickey.” Michael shook his head at the camera. “Maybe something that rhymes?”

“You could just say something nice,” Mickey offered trying to speed this along.

“Meredith…Macbeth?” Michael shook his hands. “No. Meredith…’dith, breath. Bad breath. Meredith has bad breath!”

“Yeah. Don’t think that’s going to go over well,” Mickey told him.

“God. It’s like no one can take a joke anymore!” Michael complained.

There’s a knock on Michael’s door.

“Michael?” Oscar called out.

“You may enter,” Michael called out.

“I don’t mean to bother you. I’m sure you’re busy.” Oscar looked around. Mickey just shook his head.

“What can I do for you?” Michael asked.

“It’s just my nephew’s doing a walk-a-thon for Cerebral Palsy and I was wondering if you’d be able to donate anything?” Oscar asked, his eyes constantly glancing over at the camera.

Mickey knew it was because he wasn’t used to it yet. Not like Mickey really was, but it was easier, he supposed. He had Ian to distract him when it became too much anyway. The best Oscar had was Kevin…or worse, Angela. Mickey knew from working with her that she was not really an option and didn’t “approve of distractions,” as she had said more than once.

“Abso-frutily,” Michael said. “Bring that over here.”

“Thank you,” Oscar said as he passed over the clipboard.

“Wow. A dollar? Two? I mean, Toby’s done three. It’s like they don’t care,” Michael said. “That’s just not gentlemanly.”

“How is that not gentle—“ Mickey tried to ask but Michael cut him off.

“It just is,” Michael said waving a hand. “I will you give you twenty-five dollars, my good man.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. “That’s very generous, Michael.”

Michael passed Oscar back his clipboard. “Oscar, generosity and togetherness and community all…convalesces into morale.” He looked at the camera. “That’s what I say.”

 “When do you say that?” Mickey asked with a smirk.

“Just, shut it,” Michael said. “I say it.”

“Well, thank you Michael. I know this means a lot,” Oscar said as he backed out of the office. 

“Some of us actually care. Unlike Mickey here who gives a dollar,” Michael said shaking his head and coming around to sit on the edge of his desk.

“It’s not like all of us have manager salaries,” Mickey said.

Michael looked down at him. “Well, it’s still only a dollar.”

“Per mile,” Mickey corrected.

“Huh?”

“It’s one dollar per mile his nephew walks.” Mickey thought for a second

“Wait. What?” Michael asked.

“It’s a donation per mile. You pay how much you pledge for every mile they complete. Though sometimes they give for the mile they end on if they don’t finish it,” Mickey explained.

“So my donation would be like, twenty-five times eight and then add that twice, plus-“

“Well, last year he walked eighteen miles…so they’d be like 450 dollars,” Mickey explained.

“Ouchie,” Michael said looking out his window into the office.

“Yeah. Man, you gotta read the fine print,” Mickey explained.

“Do you think I could change it?” Michael asked.

“You want to take money away from a charity?” Mickey asked.

“It’s not like they have it already, Mickey.” Michael frowned down at him.

“What about the morale generosity and togetherness makes?” Mickey asked him.

“I’m really going to have to pay some kid four hundred dollars just for walking?” Michael asked him instead.

“Probably.”

“Is it some special kind of walking? Like on stilts or something?”

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Michael. “I doubt it. It’s just regular walking to raise money for charity.”

“God. Four hundred dollars. I can’t even picture that amount of money.”

Mickey just looked at the camera.

***********************************************************************************************************

_Have you always been good at math?_

Mickey shrugged. “I dunno. I guess so. I used to help my dad with the family finances and shit. Guess it just stuck with me.”

_Are there any other hidden talents?_

Mickey shrugged.

“He can draw,” Ian said from where he poked his head in the door.

“Fuck off,” Mickey said to Ian. “Anyone can draw. Doesn’t mean I’m good at it.”

“No. He’s really good. You guys should see some of his stuff,” Ian explained. “I can’t even draw a stick person that looks proportional.”

“You mind? I got an interview to finish here,” Mickey scolded. But his scowl softened when Ian winked at him and ducked back out of the room. 

* * *

Ian was typing on his computer when Mickey came up to lean on his desk. “Hey, Ian. Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Ian leaned back in his chair. “What’s up?”

“I’m going crazy, man. I was in Michael’s office all morning and I keeping overhearing all the talks between Michael and corporate about staff issues,” Mickey started and picked at his nails. “He’s making me take notes and stuff at these meetings.”

“Of course,” Ian agreed and noticed Dwight shift closer to them.

“And he keeps going on about how this is all confidential and shit, but I gotta talk to someone man,” Mickey finished.

“Me?” Ian glances over at Dwight and gets a subtle head nod before he goes back to pretending to work.

“You gotta promise not to tell anyone,” Mickey said.

“Of course. Just between you and me.” Ian stood up. He gave Dwight a thumbs up when he pushed his chair back in before following Mickey to the break room.

Dwight glanced at the camera and whispered, “Jackpot.”

***********************************************************************************************************

“That was amazing,” Ian said. “And just what Dwight needed to hear to take the bait.”

Ian shook his head. “All his idea too. Just awesome.”

He smiled and looked down. “He’s so great.”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Most of the things Michael has me take notes on are about what sort of suits he should look into buying and what color dress shirts and ties he should buy. Sometimes it’s about what tv show he should start watching,” Mickey explained.

“So no. There’s no information I have to give Ian. But Dwight doesn’t need to know that.”

***********************************************************************************************************

As soon as Ian got back, he practically dragged Dwight into the conference room.

“What happened?” Dwight asked.

“Mickey says that one of the alliances is meeting in the warehouse during Meredith’s birthday party,” Ian explained and glanced at everyone sitting at their desks through the window.

“Oh my god. We have to be there,” Dwight said.

“Yeah. But it’s going to be hard. There’s no place to hide down there,” Ian explained.

Dwight pushed him on the chest. “Yes there is! Behind the—“ Dwight shook his head. “I know exactly what to do.”

He held his hand up for a high five which Ian gave him before walking out and directly started making his way to the warehouse.

Ian only smirked at the camera before following Dwight.

 “Ian!” Dwight called out as soon as Ian got to the warehouse.

“What are we going to do?” Ian asked.

Dwight opens a box and crawls inside. “This.”

“A box?” Ian asked.

“It’s the perfect cover,” Dwight argued. “I can see them but they can’t see me.” Dwight crouched down in the box.

“This isn’t going to work, Dwight,” Ian told him. “The lid’s open.”

Dwight popped back up. “So tape it down.”

“Then you can’t breathe,” Ian told him.

Dwight rolled his eyes. “I can breathe fine. But if it makes you feel better I’ll poke holes in the box.”

“Good. Thanks,” Ian said as Dwight crouched down again. “You want me to stay here next to the box?”

Dwight popped up, almost ripping the lid pieces. “No, Ian. That’d look stupid. You need to go up to the party so people don’t notice that we’re both gone.”

Ian nodded and smiled at him. “Yeah! That’s good!”

“Yeah. I know. Now just tape me up and get on with it.” Dwight crouched again.

Ian wasted no time taping that box shut. He even used extra tape, you know, so it looked properly sealed and not suspicious.

Ian smiled the entire way back up to the office and was just in time to hear every sing “Happy Birthday” to Meredith. He winked at Mickey to signal that everything was set up.

Mickey smiled at him.

***********************************************************************************************************

Mickey clutched his cell phone as he made his way through the warehouse looking for the box Dwight was currently hiding in. It was his turn to finish the prank.

He almost laughed out loud when he saw the box with three little holes poked in the side.

Instead he just gestured at it for the camera.

He rolled his eyes and got to work pretending to dial. He then pretended to be on a call.

“What happened? Why’d you bail?” Mickey asked. He heard shuffling from inside the box.

“I thought we’d agreed to meet during the party?” Mickey glanced to his side and saw a little knife poking out of the box, trying to create another hole.

“I guess, man. I just don’t know what accounting’s going to think.” The box starting shifting violently.

“Ugh!” The box fell over.

Mickey bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Dude, I gotta go back. They’ll notice we’re both gone.”

Mickey hung up his fake phone call before rushing back up the stairs to the office while laughing.

* * *

“Read the responses out loud!” Michael called out as Meredith opened her card. “Then we can know whose is the best?”

Meredith looked at Michael, clearly thinking this was a bad idea. But she held up the card and began reading it out loud. “Happy Birthday Meredith. Hope you have an awesome day. Ian.”

Ian nodded toward her and she smiled at him. Mickey elbowed him in the ribs with raised eyebrows. Ian just shook his head at Mickey. “I’ll write a nice message for you on your birthday card too.”

“That’s not—“ but Mickey was cut off by Michael’s, “Guys, guys, no talking. We need to be able to hear this.”

“You’re not actually a year older because you work here where time stands still,” Meredith continued. “That’s from Stanley.

Michael frowned. “It’s not that bad Stanley.”

“Yes it is,” Stanley responded from the side.

“You know what, just shut…it,” Michael said.

“Okay, this one’s from Michael,” Meredith said over everyone. “Let’s hope the only downsizing that happens to you is your age.”

Everyone turned to Michael who was laughing.

“You know, ‘cause of the downsizing. Rumors,” Michael added to the camera.

“No. I get it,” Meredith said.

“You obviously didn’t get the joke,” Michael said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “I have a bunch more of these.”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Yes. Michael tends to go overboard,” Phyllis said. “He doesn’t seem to recognize when people are uncomfortable.”

********************************************************

“He always asks me what life was like on the streets,” Stanley grumbled out. “Boy, I have lived in the Northside my entire life. Nothing about my upbringing would suggest I lived on the streets or in the ghetto or was part of a gang.”

********************************************************

“There was a week, one of my first weeks, where Michael asked me tons of questions about prison and shit,” Mickey said. “I was hired as part of the deal to get convicts back into the workplace or something.”

“He asked me once if I ever dropped the soap.” Mickey stared at the camera.

“No one fucking talks like that anymore.” Mickey shook his head.

_Were you upset?_

“It was worse growing up at home than in prison and juvie, so his questions didn’t bother me.”

********************************************************

“One time, he did a Chris Rock impression with his stand up and Corporate came down to yell at him,” Kevin said.

“Well, Corporate made Michael, and by extension the rest of us, go through a diversity seminar,” Oscar explained sitting next to Kevin. “He literally had to be told that his comments were offensive, racist, and not appropriate for the workplace by a trained professional.”

“It was so funny,” Kevin said laughing.

********************************************************

“Oh yeah, one time he fake fired me,” Mickey said. “It was right when all the rumors about downsizing were going on. He called me into his office and told me that he was letting me go.”

Mickey shook his head. “I was so confused because Michael hates firing people. He even went on to tell me that he was firing me for theft. Told me a stole hundreds of post it notes.”

Mickey tilted his head. “Eventually said it was a joke the new guy wanted to do.”

********************************************************

“That was not at all what I wanted,” Ryan Howard, the temp, said.

“Michael called me into his office to hang out with him. I think Michael thinks we’re best friends or something,” Ryan explained. “Later he asked me if I liked the Jamie Kennedy Experiment, which come on man. That show’s been gone for years. Then he was calling Mickey in and firing him thinking it was going to be funny.”

_What did he say it was for?_

“He told me that it was just a playful bit of hazing.” Ryan looked at the camera. “It was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life.”

Ryan shook his head. “How does someone think that’s funny?”

********************************************************

 “I would say that as their boss I’m their father, their mentor, their teacher,” Michael explained.

“Maybe their lover?” Michael shook his head.

“The point is that it’s my job to be what these people need me to be when they need me to be it. And I think I do that pretty well.” Michael leaned forward over his desk and held up a mug.

“I would say that this pretty much sums it all up,” Michael said. The mug read WORLD’S BEST BOSS on it.

“I bought it at Spencer Gifts.”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Okay people, I think we’re really losing sight of what’s really important here,” Michael said. He’d put the extra jokes away when everyone groaned at the first few. “We are a group of people who work together.”

Michael put his hands on his hips and looked around. “Okay. All right. Well, I wasn’t going to flaunt this, but I have made a very sizable donation to Oscar’s nephew’s marathon for twenty-five dollars.”

“Per mile,” Mickey added from the side.

“Yes,” Michael said turning toward him. “Per mile.”

Michael pulled out his checkbook to write out a check for Oscar. Oscar put his hand on Michael’s arm. “You should probably wait until the event. To see how much you owe.”

Michael looked at him and said slowly. “I guess you are right, sir.”

“Why don’t we go and have cake?” Ian suggested loudly.

“Yes. There’s cake in the conference room,” Angela said taking charge.

Dwight appeared at Ian’s side and tugged on his arm. “Can I talk to you?”

“Absolutely.” He turned to Mickey. “Save me a piece?”

“Remember no one gets seconds until everyone has had one,” Angela called out over everyone.

“I’ll try, but Angela’s ruthless,” Mickey told him.

“Use that Southside charm,” Ian suggested.

“Fuck off,” Mickey snorted.

“There it is,” Ian laughed. He turned to follow Dwight to the break room.

Mickey pretended like he hadn’t watched him leave. Especially when he turned around and saw the camera watching him. 

* * *

Mickey was sitting at his desk checking his e-mail when Ian came rushing up behind him.

“I have something that is better than the box,” he told Mickey as he stood beside him and leaned close to whisper.

“What?” Mickey asked and shifted to face Ian.

“I just convinced Dwight to go to Stamford to spy on our other branch!” Ian said excitedly.

“No fucking way,” Mickey said with a laugh.

“But before he does, I told him that he should, get this, dye his hair and go undercover.” Ian threw his head back and laughed as he grabbed at Mickey’s hand. “Can you believe that?”

Mickey laughed and shook his head. “Jesus. Is he gonna do it?”

“I think so,” Ian said. “Maybe a little more push but-“

“What do we have here?” Michael asked as he walked over to reception. “Should we get a little documentation up in this?”

Mickey looked down and yanked his hand from Ian’s. “For what?”

“A little office romance,” Michael continued.

“There’s nothing happening here. We’re two dudes,” Mickey said quietly, refusing to look at either one.

***********************************************************************************************************

“And that’s why I haven’t told anyone here that I’m gay,” Ian said quietly. “I’m not ashamed, but I know it could make some people uncomfortable.”

Ian shook his head. “But can you imagine what Michael would do if he found out?”

_Do you think he’d try and fire you?_

“No. I think he’d want me to give him a play-by-play of my life.” Ian rubbed at his face. “I already had to do that with my brother Carl who went through a phase where he needed to know where gay dicks went. I don’t think that’s a discussion I want to have with my boss.”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Who am I closest with at the office?” Mickey bit at his lip. “Ian, I guess.”

_Why do you think that is?_

“The fuck is this? An interrogation?” Mickey sighed. “It’s ‘cause we have the same childhood. Well, sort of. He was the only one who didn’t treat me like I was carrying the plague or some shit when I was first hired.”

Mickey sat up straighter. “And now we’re sort of friends.”

***********************************************************************************************************

_Do you think anyone else would treat you differently if they found out?_

Ian looked down. “I definitely think some of them would. And I just don’t think I want to go through that, you know? Having them look at me differently, like an abomination or something.”

_Do you really think people would think like that?_

Ian tried not to think back on his childhood growing up in the Southside where being gay was a criminal offense punishable by death or beatings. He knew that Mickey was Southside as well and could only imagine the type of campaigns he went against.

He knew that he could handle Angela looking at him like he was a walking death sentence or Kevin giggling in his corner, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle Mickey no longer wanted to associate with him just because he was gay.

“I think some people might. But I don’t really want to find out right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than I was anticipating, but I had a few family things that took up a lot of time. But I am going to try regular updates. I'm going to aim for every 2-3 weeks, with a sneak peak/promo clip every week so you guys have something. Just go [here](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/tagged/southside%20office) or track the Southside Office tag on tumblr. 
> 
> I hope you don't mind the few talking heads with other characters, they just seemed to make sense and help tell the story! 
> 
> Hopefully this was worth the wait! You guys are the best! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on the next part. After I finish it and post it, I'm hoping to have a better idea of how long it takes me to write since I'm going to be basing each chapter on a chunk of episodes and choosing specific moments. After I post the second chapter, I'll figure out an update schedule on when I'll be aiming to update this! 
> 
> I hope the different page breaks weren't distracting. I just think it works better to use the **** when it's signifying a cut away scene versus a change in scene. If that makes any sense. 
> 
> Feel free to talk to me on [tumblr!](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/) Especially if there's anything specific you want to [ask!](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/ask)


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